


Devil May Care

by EnEss_Caity



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Canon Non-Binary Character, Oral Sex, Other, Penetration, vague parts for Bloodhound
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:35:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25397008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnEss_Caity/pseuds/EnEss_Caity
Summary: Mirage and Bloodhound have a bit of an agreement with each other. But how long can they both go before little affections start sinking into their relationship?
Relationships: Bloodhound & Mirage | Elliott Witt
Comments: 4
Kudos: 36





	Devil May Care

Mirage was used to the whole booty-call-thing, especially now that he was famous. It seemed like every last one of the patrons he’d met at his bar suddenly had time for him. And the only thing he liked more than public attention was hearing his name called out in the privacy of bed. Too bad none of those people really held his interest. Not like... _they_ could.

So here he stood. In the hall outside of Bloodhound’s home, like he had several times that month. They invited him over at the strangest times. Directly after Games, in the middle of the night, early in the day. He had never turned them down, they were the best lay he’d had in … y’know its not important. He knocked a kicky little beat on their door.

He had received the first invitation to see them at their apartment weeks ago. He happily agreed to meet with the fearsome hunter hoping for some interesting company, but getting so much more. He didn’t ask why they wanted him, he just let it happen. He was bent over their counter in a flash, they barely finished asking him to ”join them in bed“ - such a delicate phrasing for what Elliott _actually_ wanted them to do to him. 

He visited that memory often; The grip they had on this hip, and the leather gloves they stuffed in his mouth to keep him from saying “those sinful things”. Their words, again. He smirked thinking back to it, he hadn’t seen their face but he knew they were blushing. 

He dwelled in this recollection while waiting for the tracker to let him in - truth be told he liked the thought of getting caught by them, half-hard just from the thought of their previous meetups. He called for them through the door for a second time, letting his desire drip from his words. “Hound, Open up. Don’t keep me waiting out here~!” He didn't care about how loud he was, or that other legends could hear him from their nearby homes. They were about to hear far worse, anyhow.

The clicking of the locks got his heart racing. The door opened to a dark apartment, Hound obscured behind the solid wood. Mirage shrugged, waltzing into the abode. “It's been too long, Hound.” He began to strip the jacket and boots he’d arrived with. He peeked backwards at them - AH, what a shame, they had a dak headscarf on and a set of thick goggles. No face-viewing tonight. “So, babe, where do you want me?”

They couldn’t shut the door fast enough, “Always so … hrokafullur...” they found the word in their native tongue. Their head tilted down to examine him and noticed the prominent bulge further south. They made a tisk-tisk noise turning towards him, “Try subtlety, Mirage.” 

“Hmmm I don't think i’ll accept advice on being subtle from the one who carries a big-ass bird everywhere.” He began to free himself of all his clothing next, shirt falling to the floor, pants to his ankles and promptly kicked off. 

Their tense voice was barely audible, “Fine. Then choose to display some respect.” They steadied his eager striping with a hand that easily closed around his forearm. “In my home, you will not be so rude.” 

“Oh, I do love your foreplay.” Mirage let his voice rumble low, he got a small shiver from the hunter. However, he did know better than to push their buttons - he quickly piled all the loose clothing to the side of the front door. He stood there for an extra moment, with nothing but a pair of boxers, various jewelry, and a smile.

“There! Neat and tidy!” he fluttered his eyes at them, feigning innocence. He dropped that act and glided to their side again “I mean, really - you should keep me around, put me in a maid costume”, he ran a hand down their arm, “- and then tear me out of it.” 

He heard them sigh, saw them shake their head. “Gods above, I would.” They hastily grabbed at the man in front of them, finding a second to free their mouth from the scarf. Their lips connected, followed by teeth and tongue - all full of fire; It was unclear if that stemmed from annoyance or desire at this point but it didn’t much matter to Mirage. He was flat against their front, their strong arms wrapped him so tightly he thought he’d beg for breath faster than usual. He felt their hands drop to his backside, gripping and angling his hardness to their hip. They forcefully guided his movements, causing him to grind into them. 

Without any more coaching, he wrapped a leg around their waist and bucked into any place they allowed. He groaned in a deep tone, the satisfaction was all he’d hoped it would be after thinking about them all day. He bit his lip, then he bit their lip - minding the scarring. He breathed out, letting the space between them grow hot. Why didn't he have any more clothes to take off? Their body heat was heavenly until it was unbearable, he pulled the sticky, thick air into his lungs. He used that air to start begging, “Houndie, please, take your clothes off. It’s too hot.” he pulled at their long sleeves, their gloves. How could they stand to wear all that, let alone while hooking up with the hottest man in the outlands? He wanted it gone.

“Patience.” they said, not able to convince either party that they weren’t desperate.

“Ugh - More platitudes, huh, Bloodhound? ‘Subtlety, Respect, Patience’? I have one for you -” he found their waistband and untucked their shirt without decorum, running hands up their front, and nails back down it, “Take the things you want from life.” 

There was a hand in his hair, yanking him backwards. He moaned at the pain, and bit down on his bottom lip. Bloodhound squared their face to his, “I am not a thing.” They let his hair go, and he fell to his knees in front of them.

Ah, fuck. He definitely blew it this time. He thought about turning tail and leaving, he could find any barfly to satiate the heat between his legs. He didn't _need_ them… he just _wanted_ them. Extremely bad. So badly in fact that he started saying something he forgot he knew how to. 

“I’m sorry, Bloodhound.”

“You expect me to believe that? So full of yourself.” they spat back at him. There was a long stretch of silence, followed by a soft “Prove that you are sorry.” He had to imagine the eyeroll that came with it.

When he dared look back up at them, he saw their pants undone and pulled hastily to mid thigh. He nearly yelped in excitement, “Oh Hound, I knew you couldn't resist me for too long.” He dared to joke. He took them into his mouth before he got a response - he had an apology to prove, after all. 

Their voice in his ears was like a melody. Praise, shame, huffs for air, and moans came from them in equal measure, “I have prayed that I could resist you but… the gods do not will me to vinna that battle.” Their hands stroked his hair from his face, “This sight is dangerous. I want to see it too much.” He looked up to see them gingerly pursing their lips together, lightning scars marking the skin there. He imagined that he was looking into their eyes when they pulled lightly on his curls, and caressed the back of his head. He hummed at their touch.

They were so beautiful like this. So tender, far more tender than he deserved. He was here to be used, not to be told he was irresistible. He was just here for a cheap thrill, not for the tingling sensation of their soft fingers through his curls. He shook his head and gripped the backs of their thighs, forcing his mouth to work at a speed he knew he couldn't keep up. He heard them squeal, and felt them buck - that's more like it. 

They spoke, dry throat and gritty voice, “ _Þú ert svo erfiður en lýgur ekki._ ” Not one word of that was caught by Mirage. Honestly he couldn’t care less about what they said now, as long as they didn’t stop him again. He kept at them, and could tell how well he was doing by the whimpers from above, and the harsh grip in his hair. He palmed at himself, keeping time with what he was doing to Bloodhound. He’d just began to feel a cramp in his jaw when they pulled his face away in a rough motion. “You’ve proven your apology, please - a moment's rest.” They attempted to cover themself with a still-gloved hand but - oh no no no, Mirage decided that they were going to get what they asked for. “Hound I’m not done with you.” His voice was a growl, throat thick from overuse. He stood up to full height and in a swift movement, knocked Bloodhound off balance, caught them, and guided them to the soft carpeted floor. His mouth was back on them, taking advantage of their shock. They surprisingly let it happen, and soon Mirage knew why. They let out a desperate cry, and held his head down - his tongue and mouth glad to help them cum under him. He sucked and kissed at them until they stilled. He was about to say something smarmy, lips already curled into a sneer - but he was cut off. Emphasis on cut. Their hand pulled his hair- forcing him away from them. And a fresh line of crimson was across his bare chest.

“You really just pulled a knife on me? _This_ is the thanks I get?” He winced, but still found it within himself to be a little proud. 

“ _Andskoti._ ” They bared their teeth, grip weakening on Mirage’s hair and their hunting knife. “Allfather has sent me Loki, reincarnated.”

“Oh Houndie, I knew you thought of me as a god.”

__

It was unclear who dragged whom to the bedroom; Bloodhound’s pure powerful form vs Mirage’s ability to coax them into seemingly anything made for a perfect match. Though once they were there, backed onto the massive low mattress covered in furs, hide, and surprisingly silken sheets - Mirage was in charge. He made it clear with stern and urgent kisses, their previous activity had the hunter's scent clinging to his beard. He felt a painful throbbing south when he heard them take a deep breath, smelling themself on him. They kissed harder. As much as he wanted to begin the process of touching himself, Mirage preferred to wait it out. He could bear the ache a little longer if it meant that his lover could shudder beneath him a few more times. 

He had them sitting on the foot of the bed, and Mirage offered them only his hand. They had the reigns over what that hand did next. And so, they placed it for him, just around their windpipe. He laughed in a humorless way that really only showcased how hard that gesture made him. He obliged for a moment, squeezing the hard column under the thin, scarred skin of their neck. HE relented for a second, letting a smile grace his face, “Oh wait, whats the uh.. Safw- safeword again?” He felt their gentle skoffing from his fingertips. “Is it not clear when you should stop after you’ve been slashed like so?” They ran a thumb along the red line on his pec. He laughed at them genuinely, “Oh we can go there, I can take it. But something tells me you’d be a little too…. tied up to take a stab at me every time you need a break.” he winked at them, and he knew they rolled their eyes behind the dark goggles. “You pick.”, they whisper. He mimics their tone, the softness in his voice creeps over Bloodhound’s skin and leaves goosebumps behind. “Beacon.”

As he squeezed with one hand, the other was busy below, first dragging his nails along their skin, to get them shivering. It trailed up to their chest, and straight down past their navel - he paused between their legs but happily went to work there. They whimpered, as much as they could with their breathing restricted. It told Mirage he was doing a good job, and he really liked doing a good job. He found his eyes rolling into his head and he grunted above them. Their hands darted out, one resting on his hip, thumb digging into his hard ab. The other had found his hard cock hanging heavy and leaking. They worked him roughly, not having fine motor skills at the moment. Being tied up in their own second climax made them release their grip on him, and onstead each hand went to hold his respective wrists. As they shuddered against him, mouth gaping into a silent ‘O’, they found some spare air and breathed out his name. It was pleading and high pitched, it made him laugh. They were so fierce all other times he’d seen them, whether they were killing in the ring or simply sitting around on the dropship - these noises were the last ones Mirage would have expected. They’d finally had enough attention form him and they clawed at this wrists to get them away. He furrowed his brow and sneered, “Hound what’s the point of the safeword if you don't use it?” He leaned down to their face, hot, sweaty, burning red, “Tell me to stop and I will.” 

At that command they were silent despite their struggling against him. They pawed at his hand darting between their sweat coated thighs, setting a better angle. Before long, they came again, wrapping hands around Mirage’s face and ears, digging their nails into the base of his skull. Finally satiated, they whispered “Beacon” to him. He pulled both of his hands back to himself, placing them on his hips. “I’d like to say something witty but Hound, that was so hot. Two in one go? Do I really do it for you? Lil old me?” He took his time gloating. They took their time recovering.

They lay back, arms brought up, and palms smashing their goggles to their eyes, adjusting the eyewear allowed them to properly rub there. It took a moment to realize that they had been wiping tears. He felt a dull dark feeling drop his stomach a few inches. “Hound, you getting soft on me now?” He wanted to tell them to get it together, but held his tongue. They spoke, “I know too well that around you - my body makes the choices, not my intellect” they spit back, “What would you like, Mirage, how can I slake your thirst” They reach for him without moving their head, fingers twitching in a ‘come here’ motion. It looks needy, them splayed before him, inviting him into their embrace. He feels several things, the top two being desperate to join them there, and the disgust at the thought of being treated so softly by them. Instead he crouches low on top of them, all four limbs squaring them in. They nearly growled at the aggressive movement. He brushed a thumb over their lips, cracked from long-faded scars but still so beautiful. “Bloodhound, I’d like to use you, to fuck you” he traced his mouth over theirs, making his demands. “I want you wrapped around my cock and I want you to thank me for it.” 

Their answer was a simple, “Is that all?” Which would have sounded cooler, more aloof if only they weren’t softly massaging the spots behind his ears with their trembling thumbs. This kind of comfort was something he tensed at. What kind of bootycall was this? They were getting too intimate showing him bits and pieces of affection. As if to make them take away the bitterness in his heart, he put their hands into his hair and told them to pull. “Don’t hold back” was the only instruction. After a quick position change, their hips were now at the perfect angle to take Mirage. He’d made use of the lubricant that he just ended up leaving after their first triste. He covered himself liberally, pumping into his fist. At his first breathy moan, Bloodhound started their task and pulled at his hair. Words spilled out of his mouth now like he was holding them back for years, “Oh fuck, baby. Yes god please, harder.” He took a moment to reach between their legs to slick them, ready to feel their heat around him. He lined up to their hole and looked to their face. He eyes dark, pupils wide, brows low, he almost looked deep in concentration. They nodded excessively but stayed quiet. He first explored with a finger, and soon two, and eventually had made himself impatient. “Hound” he whispered, he pushed into them. Throbbing tightness all around his dick made his eyes squeeze shut. He felt their pulsing all the way through his body and shuddered before moving again. They pulled at his hair so harshly it made his hips buck into them. That in turn, caused a chain reaction of them sliding as far down onto mirages slick hot cock as they could, and he began to wildly hump into them. He gasped and praised them and whimpered and yelled into their throat. 

He made good on his promise to use them, aside from their dutiful yanking of his hair, he had’nt let them do anything but just take him, and take him all. Lifting his hips high and slamming back into them was electric, he cried out their name several times. Mirage begain to feel himself climaxing, and stopped himself, by force. Fully pulling out of their hole, he gripped himself behind his balls and all the way around his dick- wishing he had the foresight to put on a cock ring before he got into this situation. 

He looked down onto his partner, they were dewy with sweat, breathing heavily - obviously enjoying mirage’s indulgent and selfish behavior. He allowed himself to kiss them, convincing himself that he just wanted to do something while trying to cool down. And not at all because they always stroked his cheeks in a tender way when he did - who even needed that? Not Mirage. They did bring their hands to cup his cheeks, they kissed him deep, yet soft. He pulled away just long enough to place himself back at their entrance, and filled them up with his cock again. They lacked patience by now and greedily helped him bury deep into them, once he was in to the hilt, they rocked their hips at a quick beat. 

A nervous laugh escaped his chest, he placed his sweat covered forehead to their chest, fucking them hard and unrelenting. He heard them wail for just a moment, pulling at the furs under them. They mewl in an unintelligible way, but eventually mirage hears through the rushing blood on his ears. “Oh Elliott!” 

He tenses, slowing the movement of his hips. “Hound, don’t… don’t call me that.”

“Wh-why not? Don’t stop” Their hands cling to his ribcage.

“It’s… I’m Mirage.” He was not ready for the concern in their voice, “Have I upset you?” They pulled his chest to theirs easily, and dragged the back of their fingers along his cheekbone. What the hell? Where was this coming from? And why would he answer with, “No, i-it’s f-fine.”

“Do you dislike your given name?” They try again to stroke his face.

“No it…” he pins their hand above their head to stop the fluttering it caused in his chest. “Please I just... I hate that guy.” He chuckled to himself just to keep his voice from wavering. 

Without missing a beat Bloodhound moved their hips, grinding down devilishly, “I am very fond of him.” They kissed him and he was completely still, like he was terrified to move. Without his own brain’s consent, he snapped forward into them. Their gasps told him it was welcome. “Just because you beg for me doesn’t mean you know me.” Undeterred, they plant their feet and work their way back to the pace they’d reveled in earlier. The way Mirage slumped his head to rest against their collar bone showed they’d pulled him from his poor mood. He opted to sit up higher, placing his hands on their obliques - making good on his promise to simply use them. It didn’t take long like this, they felt incredible. He found himself falling over the edge in no time, furrowing his brow, letting his mouth fall open. He spilled into them and they clenched around him at the feeling. They clawed down his front and he yowled at the sensation. And with that mixed display, he collapsed on top of them, panting for breath into the furs covering their bed.

He must have dozed off, waking up to slightly different lighting… and the hunters fingers stuck mid-comb through his hair. Searching himself for the drive to get as far away as possible proved to be useless, he wanted to just lay here, on them, _with_ them. The small soft gestures that Bloodhound had done this time were weighing on his mind, in all serious he felt betrayed. Of all hookup partners he could have had, he thought for sure that Bloodhound would be the one to leave feelings out of it. So why did they stroke his cheek? Why comfort him about that stupid fucking name thing? Why fall asleep under him preening his hair? 

His heart ached and jumped at the same time. He’s not a relationship guy. He’s a “kill newbies in a blood sport over the workweek” guy. Too damaged to repair. Then again, Bloodhound was really good at fixing up old junk.

He felt them shift under him, their hand left his head. They inhaled deeply, Mirage selfishly assumed they were taking in his scent when they trailed a hand down his spine. 

“Bloodhound.” He cautioned them. “I should get going.” Mirage picked himself up, leaving their embrace - or attempting to at least. They were simply stronger than he was. They held tight to his back, not allowing him to budge. “Hound, c’mon-“

“No. Stay the evening.” They said nonchalantly. He hadn’t ever stayed longer than it took to clean himself up and put his jacket back on. “Hound, I shouldn’t.”

“Why? I know I’ll be calling on you in the morning.” They said in a rare smug tone that knocked mirage from his balance. He relaxed, keeping the thought in his head that he was being kept for only physical reasons was an anchor he was comfortable with.

“We could always start now. I’m just so damn bad at procrastinating.” He curled his lips against theirs and invited them into a kiss. They briefly joined only to push his chest away. “Unfortunately, Mirage, you’ve left me in need of a night's rest.”

“Stay, or don’t. You may choose.” They brought him into another kiss, letting him ponder. He was grateful for that pause, sinking into the familiarity of their lips. “Is staying over too… I mean… it’s just not what we do, Hound.”

“How could you say such a thing, Mirage? We were to be betrothed in the morning.” Mirage choked on his spit and pulled away from them faster than if bullets were raining down on him. 

“Mirage.” They shook their head, “I jest. I am not interested in a courtship.” Grabbing his face and forcing it back to their own, they drop into a silky tone one that’s only for him, “so long as you find the time to write in my sheets, I’ll be contented.” He shuddered at the thought - as if he hadn’t just finished doing just that. They took his mouth and left him without breath for a moment or two, and finally made a move to stand. They took a few steps toward their bathroom, and turned to him. “Join me in the bath.” It was more of a command than a suggestion. Mirage audibly gulped and nodded goofily. “I’ll be in i-in- a minute.” He assured. They turned and shut the door behind themself. 

He let the smile drop from his face. Silently, Mirage stood, dressed himself, and was pulling the apartment door closed behind him within moments. A private car, driven by a MRVN took him home, to be truly alone. Like he deserved. 

Seconds after he stepped through the door of his bedroom, his phone lit up. 

Bloodhound:

**_I will still call on you tomorrow. I’d like another one of your apologies. Sleep well, Loki._ **

  
  
  



End file.
